


honey don’t feed me, i will come back

by richieblows



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood and Gore, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Knotting, M/M, Piss kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Supernatural Elements, Top Richie Tozier, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26347597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richieblows/pseuds/richieblows
Summary: Stitched on the bloody left breast of the Werewolf’s jacket, stained but readable, were the words RICHIE TOZIER.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 76
Collections: Labor Day Book Quote Challenge (2020), Monster Reddie





	honey don’t feed me, i will come back

**Author's Note:**

> For my and bimmyshrug’s Labor Day fic challenge
> 
> also, this will be edited soon (was too busy to beta it all whoops) but I wanted to post this on Labor Day! Haha

It was warm, one of the more comfortable nights in Derry that Richie hadn’t felt in a long time. During the fall months in Maine it was inexplicably warm, like hell was bubbling over underneath them, and it caused a pleasantness in the air at night. A warmth that you could feel kissing your skin as the sun set almost nostalgically. It felt safe, like Derry was a welcome home and not the dark and sinister little corner of American hell that bled through Sunday like a man drunk on sin. 

Richie’s fingers teased along the cracked blue backing of the book Mike had handed him, huffing quietly to himself as he halfheartedly listened to Bill prattle on about something or another. Another monster, another witch, another plan, another dangerous mission for them to risk their lives on. Life or death or maybe something in between; it didn’t seem to matter to Bill— not anymore. Nothing had taken any of them yet, but it only seemed to make Bill bolder and more determined with each new opportunity to defeat the demons that they had unintentionally released into the world with each passing pursuit. They might not have been killed in the material world yet, but Richie sometimes wondered if it would’ve been better if he had been.

The walking nightmare-turned-reality started after they killed the flesh eating clown, the tormenting monster that had traumatized them time and time again. But even as they watched as Its circus of death and decay turned into floating ash, they knew they had lost as It giggled gleefully in Its puddle of blood and melted skin.

“You lose children, you’ve done more harm than good. Cleaning up is not as fun as playing the game.”

“Listen– uh, Bill–” Richie raised his hand to stop Bill mid-sentence, smiling apologetically when Bill stuttered out his last word before looking at him. “Uh, okay, so. Everything you’re saying is good, man, don’t get me wrong. In theory, it’s– well, it’s great. On paper, it’s a good plan.” Bill crossed his arms as he waited for Richie to continue, as Richie skimmed the book again for a moment. It was an old book, frayed at the ends with golden letters embossed at the center: Grimoire of Demonism, Sorcery, and The Unknown, no author. A book of information that Richie always assumed was nothing but poor taste fiction for the wannabe witches of the modern era. It was something Mike had picked up during his shift at the library and thought might help them with their after school project of purifying demons and slaying monsters, a job that Richie never asked for but was dumped on him for the rest of his miserable life. “I just don’t know if sneaking into her house and surrounding her will work, man. We’ve exorcised demons, killed vampires, even fucked up some monsters that looked like they should’ve been in Creatures from the Black Lagoon. But those were low class monsters, man. This witch is different.”

“How do you know?”

“It feels different. I can’t explain it, it just doesn’t feel right.” He glanced at Eddie, sitting beside him and looking down at the dusty book in his lap. His fingers brushed along Richie’s shoulder absently as he skimmed the page, mouthing the words quietly to himself. Richie’s gaze lingered there for a moment, down at the softness of his lips, blush colored and sweet. The gentle hold he had on Richie’s arm with his hand, delicate and soft– but could change to visceral and biting in seconds if he ever mentioned the malleable and restrained points of Eddie’s soft edged personality. Eddie was his new light in life, after a piece of him had all been snatched up by the horrors they had collectively faced in the underground sewers of hell. They were all stuck together after that, as they had thought they were doing the world a service by killing Pennywise; not knowing that they would be coerced into being the protectors of the world for as long as they existed on the physical plane. Not knowing that they would be forced to be tormented forever while the rest of the world was blissfully unaware of the existence of hell spawning freaks.

“It’s just... It’s got flaws, man. And I dunno how it’s gonna work out.” He sat up straighter and raised his hands in the air when Mike nudged him. “What? I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking.” He looked up at Bill again, who looked more annoyed than before. “Great uh– great plan again– by the way.” he mumbled, smiling sheepishly at the others that stared at him with a fixed gaze. No one would stand up to Bill— not after hearing him play the dead brother card over and over again, it was easier to just follow along and try to ignore the hesitant uncertainty twisting around in the back of their minds that they desperately tried to shoo away. And Richie felt for him, he really did. He’d nearly lost Eddie one too many times, and he knew he’d never recover if it ended up happening one day. Losing the one right thing in his world meant losing a part of him— and he just couldn’t handle that. Richie looked at the rest of them, who shook their heads as Bill stopped his pacing. 

“Well, what do you suggest, Richie?” He asked, crossing his arms and running a hand over his face when Richie quieted down. “Do you suggest we just– I dunno… skip over to that witch's house like we’re Hansel and Gretel and just ask her to stop kidnapping kids?” He said with that charming, lascivious smile that he did whenever he was annoyed with Richie. It happened more often than it used to. But Richie supposed it made sense, he was the cynic that was always questioning every part of Bill’s plans. Always scrutinizing it down to the very last detail until Bill was biting back annoyed retorts. “Or do you think we should let the Ghostbusters take care of this one? I heard that they were busy around this time of the year though.” Richie ran a hand over his face and shook his head, sighing before leaning back into his seat. “We're the only ones that give a shit, and we can’t ignore it when people need our help, right?” 

A grumbled right sounded through the group, while Richie kept quiet with his arms crossed. He leaned back in his seat when Bill gave him one last look. “Right. Now let’s go over this one more time–”

Richie tuned the rest of the discussion out, having wasted more time going over this plan than anything else he’d ever done in his life. He never even studied in school harder than he'd studied Bill’s hastily made plan. The plans were always different, depending on the cryptid they went after, but they had similar structures more often than not: flank the monster at all sides and rush it, easy. Kill the thing with spiritual item A or magic spell B, and scamper on home just in time for a rerun of Quantum Leap or Magnum P.I with a sweet side of Eddie Kaspbrak as a special treat; that’s how Richie’s nights seemed to end at least.

“What’s her name again?”

“It’s Hattie Latimer.” Mike murmured from his spot on the couch, his eyes focused on his shoes as he toyed with the ends of his laces. “She’s evil– beyond evil. She’s at her weakest during Halloween– at least that’s what the book’s been saying.”

“You would think that she’s actually more powerful during that day, right?” Stanley interjected nervously, keeping his focus on Bill who stood in front of a white board that held plans, maps, and various documents. There were documents that would help them, artifacts they’ve deemed useless and unnecessary, and old tomes they’ve scoured every back alley book store in a hundred mile radius for, but none of it felt right to Richie. He could feel the chill in the warm air, teasing up his back for a moment before disappearing again, like he was being watched. He broke out of his daze, dropping a hand on Eddie’s knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. Eddie leaned into his touch, his head dropping to Richie’s shoulder and his hand moving to give his arm a gentle squeeze. To remind Richie that it’s okay, you tried.

“Here’s the plan. We’re all going to flank in at different sides— I’ll go through the front door with Beverly– Richie’s at the back–”

“It’s tighter that way, if you know what I mean–”

“God Richie what the fuck?” Eddie groaned.

“Eddie and Mike will come through from the left side and Stanely and Ben come through the right, okay? Bev and I are the bait so I’m really hoping that you guys will be able to make it there in time for us.” Bill said hesitantly. 

“Bill– you’re the mastermind to this plan– I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to be the bait…” Eddie started, shyly glancing over to the rest of the group. “Right? I mean– you’re the one that even found out about the witch.” Something Richie would never understand was the way Bill looked at Eddie whenever he softly spoke up. The way that his eyes softened and his attention was focused solely on him, like nothing else in the world mattered. He could see the love there, the adoration that bloomed in his eyes like spring petals after being kissed by the sun; like Eddie was his shining light in the darkness of his cryptic little world. The only bright thing in his life that he could replace Georgie with; at least that’s what Richie thought. And maybe it was a fucked up thought, but men shouldn’t look at other men with that longing gaze. But if Richie looked any harder, then maybe he would’ve noticed that Bill might’ve been looking through Eddie rather than at him, a piece of his soul torn off from the rest, forever given up to Georgie.

Bill shook his head, stopping Eddie before he could say anymore. “This is the only way we can do this. This is the only way that we can get her. This whole thing,” he gestured to the information they had compiled behind him, but everyone knew what he meant. They knew he meant the startling night terror that had begun the moment he let Georgie out of his sight, and his obsession that had only grown from there. “It started with me, and it ends with me.” Eddie nodded his head, looking down at his clenched fists and sighing quietly. 

“Wait.” Ben interrupted. “Why are we going tomorrow night and not on Halloween?” 

“Halloween is over a month away. We can’t wait that long— we have to try and get her tonight.” Everyone grumbled quietly to themselves again, eyeing each other warily as Bill began to shuffle papers into his hands and put things away. Richie gave Beverly a look, and they both seemed to know that nothing good could come of this. “Come on guys, trust me on this. It’s a great plan.”

But it wasn’t a great plan– no.

It had gone wrong somewhere along the way, as they drove quietly through the woods in their beat up van. The fog seemed to plume thicker as they drove further, until they reached their stopping point beside a thick tree with a red X spray painted on its trunk. It was nearly midnight, with the howls of wolves and the cawing of crows whipping through the wind. Everyone was on high alert, tense and unsure as they looked at one another with uncertainty. Richie could feel the sense of dread coiling in his stomach tightly, but seeing the fear in their eyes only seemed to make it worse. “This is where we have to start walking so that she doesn’t see the car.” Mike said as he killed the engine and began to climb out. 

“Why couldn’t we do this during the day again?” Beverly asked, shrugging on her makeshift Halloween costume while the others opened up the back to rummage for their own bags. Each bag held their own water, food, weapons, and other emergency supplies in case the worst had happened. In the event that one of them was separated from the group, or they were forced to run and survive on their own before they were found again– they would at least be somewhat prepared.

“Because,” Mike said, “That’s when her eyes work best.” 

The trek through the woods was eerily quiet, almost unsettling. Richie could taste the discomfort lying thick between all of them. No one seemed comfortable enough to speak about anything– not even responding to the few short jokes that he tried to throw their way. All they could do was give him worried glances before they walked on, with their flashlights lighting the way. “We’re gonna die,” Stanley whispered as they shut their flashlights off and continued on through the woods. The ground was wet and muddy, as black as the night sky. They could hardly see anything through the thick brush until they made it to a clearing that seemed to softly illuminate with the help of the full moon. 

The home was warm, a soft oak and mahogany color with the windows curtained off. A rocking chair laid creaking back and forth at the front porch with a freshly cut pumpkin sitting at the door with a crisp cut smile. Cheap halloween decorations seemed to be haphazardly stuck on the windows and strewn around the front of the home– as though the cabin wasn’t sitting in the middle of the darkest and thickest brush of woods in Derry, isolated from the rest of the world. Richie could feel the anxiety crawling up his back, making him turn to look through the blackness of the woods behind them while they all quietly discussed the game plan again. He felt as though a cold chill was tickling his spine, teasing up his back and pressing down against the base of his skull. It was never fleeting, only edging up closer and closer until he could feel it tickling the back of his mind, teasing him with dark thoughts of death and decay and all the things that could possibly go wrong in the next few moments. “Richie– Richie, are you listening?” Richie turned to face Eddie, blinking down at him and nodding nervously. 

“You need to focus or you’re going to get us fucking killed, do you get that?” Bill snapped, frowning when Richie glared back at him. 

“You think I’m the one that’s gonna get us killed? Me?” Richie asked, glaring down at him. “Look at where we are Bill, look at where you took us. We’re at some fucking witch’s house because you thought it would be a fun little field trip to kill Satan’s girlfriend or some shit, and you thought it would be easier if all of us could be there to help you!” 

Bill took a step forward toward Richie, glaring when he tried to continue. “Richie, lower your voice...” he warned.

“No Bill, after this shit– I’m done. I’m out of here. This is fucking– fucking ridiculous man, do you know that? You understand how fucking unprepared we are for this, right? We have no idea what this thing is capable of and you think throwing a little sneak attack at her isn’t risky? Why are we doing this Bill? We could have had more time, we could've done so much more, why are you doing this shit to me right now?”

“To you? Why the fuck are you the only one that’s so scared?”

Because he’d felt it. He could feel the tendrils of this woman’s magic as soon as they got out of the car, as soon as they began talking about her and the missing children, but he didn’t know it for sure. He couldn't tell if it was his imagination or if a sudden cold chill was just the uneasiness of Derry calling out to him. But deep down he understood that this woman knew that they were coming the moment they all clambered into their van and began their merry little drive through the woods. She’d been waiting for some children– and she finally got some as easy as ordering fucking delivery on a quiet Halloween night. 

“Let’s just get this shit over with then.”

Maybe it was Richie’s fault. Maybe he thought it would be a good idea to just ignore the feeling in his gut because Bill would’ve excused it as not liking his plan as usual— or the fact that Richie was just not liking him lately– but that wasn’t the case. He didn’t have time to bring their childish drama into this situation when they were about to voluntarily offer themselves up as dinner for a wicked witch that had been known to cause hell and evil to spread across Derry. But that was why they were there anyway– to be the heroes of the world yet again– and to save the home that they supposedly loved so much, as well as all the children’s souls she’d stolen. 

It was not a good plan. 

They had broken up into groups, with Richie being the only one without a partner which he thought might have been unfair. It made no sense for Richie to be alone— if anything it made sense for Bill to be alone, since he had all the courage and bravery for two people compacted into his small body. Beverly might’ve been mentally stronger than Richie— but she still got to be with Bill– even though she was at the front door and would have to stall for a little bit and be saved before they got snatched up by the witch. Mike and Eddie seemed to be an equalizer to Stanley and Ben– and maybe it made sense that Richie was the only one alone. He was the one that seemed to be the skeptic, the scared one, the one who overanalyzed perfectly good fucking plans. But it didn’t matter at that point– no, because the plan was fucked anyway and he was right.

He quietly made his way toward the back of the house, his breathing picking up as he left Mike and Eddie at one side to round the corner himself. The back of the house had a large open field of a yard, green grass and more halloween props littering the ground. It was an unsettling sight, it felt as though the witch had skipped around her home and thrown these props up to taunt them, like she knew they were coming. Like she had purposely placed every fake skeleton and ghost and pumpkin around to show just how aware she was of their poor plan. 

“Why are we dressing up when it’s not Halloween, Bill?” Beverly whispered back at the van as she pulled on an old, cheap princess costume that they had found the day prior. 

“If she’s at her weakest on Halloween, maybe we can make her think it’s Halloween. Consider it a trick rather than a treat.”

“You think that’s gonna work?” Richie snorted.

“Doesn’t hurt to try all of our options, Rich.” 

He began his quiet walk toward the back door when he heard the doorbell ring three times on the opposite side. Walking toward the house, he snuck a glance toward the side and was able to catch a glimpse of Stanley and Ben making their way toward the cracked open window at the side of the house, making him feel more at ease.

He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath as he stepped through the fog layered ground, trying his best to ignore it every time he felt a whisper of his name tickle his ear. He continued to force himself to move forward, up the rickety steps that seemed to become more and more rotted and decayed if he looked at them any longer– so he elected to ignore it. As he made his way up the steps timidly, he glanced up to see the thick wooden door slowly creak open, making his heart flutter with fear. His legs stiffened, locked up tight from the flooding thoughts of evil that lurked behind the door that could snatch him up and eat him alive. Dozens of possibilities behind that door that could end his life, but also the lives of his friends. The only reason he was alone was because they thought he was the bravest– he would be the one that wouldn't run away from the fight– it was because Richie was strong, and that he would never back down from someone who was doing something wrong. He would keep fighting, no matter how hard it was, he would get back up and continue to fight. He did it with Pennywise, and countless beasts and freaks after that, and he could do it now.

With a new surge of adrenaline rocking through his veins, he took a step forward and opened the door enough to slip inside. The kitchen was quiet and dark, the only light shining down the hall across from him and bleeding through the curtains from the full moon. He scanned his surroundings, taking note of the splintered wood floors and the decayed, dirty countertops. He heard a crackling sound and he looked up, choking on a breath when he saw a black silhouette of a woman at the further end of the house across the hall staring at him, with her arms outstretched as though she were welcoming him. But no, the front door was open and if he squinted, he could see the others talking as though she were facing them– she had to be talking to the others– she had to have been distracted enough by them to have everyone else slip through the windows and to sneak up behind her and kill her. But she stood there, unmoving, with her hands outstretched and her ratty, long hair teasing stiffly at her sides. As the dark figure took a quick step toward him, Richie took an immediate step back, his back hitting the closed door as the woman began to make uncoordinated and crackled steps toward him. Like a spider– moving her rigid body like she had broken bones rattling along to an unpleasant melody. The light behind her made it almost impossible to see her face, but she seemed to almost be playing with Richie as she took her frantic steps toward him, her neck and limbs swinging in an inhuman way. “Guys–!” He shouted, scrambling back in an attempt to open the door as the woman chittered and clicked her tongue as she shucked and jived and dragged herself down the hallway. 

“Richie!” Mike shouted as he came bounding toward him from the hall closest to his right. He gripped his arm and yanked him forward, forcing him to start moving his feet one after the other. He stumbled a few times before he regained his balance, his body lurching forward to follow Mike as they ran through the dark halls. “It was a trap– she fucking got us.” Mike murmured quietly as they snuck into a bathroom and locked the door tightly. The eerie luminescent light blinked in the dirty bathroom, the once white and teal tiled walls now grimey and caked with dried blood and dirt. The home seemed to transform from the picturesque grandmother's holiday home to a scene much like the Neibolt house– littered with trash and insects crawling along the floor. Mike’s hands trembled as he clutched at one of his shoulders that Richie had noticed was badly cut. Blood seeped through his shirt as he rummaged through his bag to find his first aid kit. 

“Where’s everyone else?”

“From what I’ve seen,” Mike murmured as he pulled out gauze and tape. “Stan, Ben, and Eddie are together– and Bev and Bill are still talking to her at the front fucking door– I didn’t read anything about there being two of her.”

“You mean three.” Richie murmured, feeling another chill at his spine and a wisp of whispers of his name. “She’s playing with us.” Richie mumbled, biting his lip as he heard a quiet giggle from the other side of the door. 

“What do you mean, man?” Mike murmured, his hand moving to grab at Richie’s shoulder to focus him back in. “You’ve been spacing out a lot, man. You need to get your head in the fucking game. You’re scaring me.” Richie nodded, trying to focus on his breathing as Mike wrapped his cut haphazardly.

“I don’t think we can win this with that shitty plan–”

“No shit– she knows we’re here.”

“Yeah, well– we just have to try and kill three of her then, right? And now that I have you, it can’t be that hard– right?” Richie asked with a twitch of a smile. He could do this, they could do this, and they probably never should’ve split up in the first place. When have they seen that splitting up had ever been a good idea in any movie? It was a bad idea, and it would probably end horribly for one of them, but Richie couldn't go without a fight. The whispers of his name grew louder, teasing him through the other side of the door with hushed giggles turning into harsher grunts. “Fuck.” Richie mumbled, his anxious breathing picking up as he heard the quiet giggles get louder. “We just… okay– we just have to fucking go. Okay Mikey? We just gotta push through and–” a scream erupted from across the house, loud enough for Mike and Richie to hear but faint enough to know that it was across the house. 

“Was that Eddie– that was Eddie–” Richie gripped the doorknob and yanked it open, a breath of relief falling past his lips when no one was on the other side. “Oh thank god,” he whispered, trying to suck in another breath before he began his quiet descent out into the hallway. There were many rooms in the house, but everything was nearly pitch black from the curtains covering each window– and seemed eerily quiet, save for the loud voices of Beverly and Bill at the front of the house– but the woman seemed hushed and quiet. Her voice was gentle, barely above a whisper, but Richie seemed to be the only one that could hear it. Mike followed close behind Richie as he made his way back in the direction he came, trying to look over each corner and every dark space to see if the woman was there. 

He had to be calculated, focused, or else someone would get hurt. If he wasn’t focused, he would never make it out of there alive. But maybe the witch had won after all, and she was just playing with her meal. Because this had been something Richie had been feeling for days now, the whispers, the chills, the teasing pull of the forest twisting and fraying the ends of his mind, warping his senses to try and keep his focus, only for him to be unfocused and thoughtless during the moments where he was needed most. She had known him since she had existed– known that this moment was bound to happen. She had to have known that Eddie would be his only reason to completely abandon everything he’d ever thought to abandon. He should’ve known as a shrill cry of his name came toward the front of the house, sounding like Eddie. “Richie, no–” Mike started.

“Eddie!” Richie shouted as he threw himself down the main hall, sprinting toward the front of the house. The woman turned her attention away from Bill and Beverly at the door with a knowing smile on her face, and Richie could feel the tension ebbing away from his shoulders as he ran toward them. Her face was a soft gray, almost sickly purple color, with her sunken in eyes and her gray, splitting hair– she looked as though her skin could rot off at any moment. Her smile was slick, ravenous and nearly toothless as she watched Richie run towards her. 

“How simple.” she crooned as Richie tripped over himself, his knee hitting the ground with a painful crack. Before Beverly, Bill, or Mike could do anything, she turned before Richie and stood over him. “I’ve been waiting,” she hummed as her yellow, glazed eyes flickered over to him and she stepped into his space. “For you, puppy.” her long, gray hand shot out to touch at Richie’s forehead, her fingernails digging in between his eyebrows as her thumb ran down the bridge of his nose only for a moment as she whispered gibberish harshly into his ear. “You lose.” And before he could scramble away from her, he could feel the mind numbing pain seeping through his side as her other hand clutched a blade to his abdomen, digging into his stomach and twisting before she danced away, bare feet slapping against the wood of the floor and laughter echoing through the house as she stumbled off. “For you all know the end of this tale, you’ve heard it time and time again, haven’t you?” she teased as she slipped through the back door, giggling quietly to herself as she disappeared into the blackened forest, jingling and chittering along the way. 

Beverly dropped to Richie’s side and flinched when Richie screamed out in pain, his hands clenched at his side. Bill tried to make a grab for the blade, but Mike stopped him quickly. “If you pull it out, it’ll just make it worse– he could die!” A pained sob fell past Richie’s lips as he was carried out toward the front of the house and onto the muddy floor beside the porch. The pain was excruciating, where he could feel nothing but the twisted up heat of the blade burning him inside, but felt the numbing cold feeling at the tips of his fingers. It was all dizzying, the hushed and grating whispers in the wind meshing with the panicked voices of his friends above him. His head lolled to the side as Beverly put pressure on the wound, the pain thumping through his body in heated pulses along with his heart beat.

“What do we do– Mike? Where the fuck is everyone?” Stumbling out of the house came Ben and Eddie clutching on either side of a limping Stanley with a bloodied leg. His eyes were half lidded as he groaned something incoherently to the others. Eddie’s hands were stained with blood, while Ben was wet with mud. “What the hell happened to Stanley?” Bill hissed, standing up from his place beside Richie to look at him. 

“I’m fine–” Stanley slurred, shaking his head when Bill moved to grab him. “We need to leave, now... what happened to him?” Beverly gripped Richie’s hand and sucked in a shaky breath when Richie clutched at her with all of his strength, trying his best to control his breathing. 

“Okay– we need to go.”

The walk to the van was harder than the walk toward the witch’s home. It was tense– with the sounds of laughter and teasing sounds of their names whispering through the wind along with the pain in Richie’s side making him delirious and numb. He giggled quietly to himself, crying out every so often as he was moved and jostled by three people while Stanley was carried by the other two. When they made it to the van he was gently put into the back with Eddie, who dug around his bag to find anything to help clean the wound. He pressed Richie to sit up against the seat beside him as the others rushed to get into the van and begin their descent back to Bill’s house. “Richie? Rich… You need to stay with me, okay?” Eddie mumbled, but all Richie could hear was the slur in his words. He trembled when he felt the soft touch of Eddie’s cool hand on his heated skin. 

“It hurts, hurts…” he mumbled, babbling incoherently as Eddie continued to coo at him. “...out, take it out…”

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay– I promise Richie. Keeping it in helps,” he whispered as he ran his hands through Richie’s hair, trying to ignore the bloody wounds on his forehead as he tried to keep Richie focused. “You just need to stay awake and make sure you can focus on my voice okay? We’re going to a hospital.” he murmured, frowning when Richie looked at him with a weak smile. “Richie?” The sounds began to blur together into a wobbled mess of lines, and the colorful lights out the window seemed to blend into hues that Richie had never thought to imagine. He mumbled something quietly to Eddie, grinning when Eddie grabbed his face and forced him to look in his direction. The pain was almost non-existent, the only thing Richie could really feel was how cold and wet the lower half of his body was, most likely from the blood– and the heat he felt coming from Eddie’s hand on his own cold, clammy skin. “Richie? Wake up– guys? Richie?”

.

.

.

Waking up had been thoughtless, with a blinding pain erupting from his side as he groaned loudly and clutched at his bandaged abdomen. All he could hear was the unpleasant beeping sounds of the monitor– and the room was bright, making it harder to open his eyes. He felt weak, lightheaded and dizzy from the loss of blood. “Richie?” He heard someone whisper, making him tense as he forced his eyes open. He could feel the headache already stinging the front of his skull as his eyes adjusted to the painfully bright light. He could see his friends scattered throughout the room, dirtied and bloodied but alive, except Stanley. “Richie…” Eddie whispered, his eyes stained with fresh tears as he clutched onto Richie’s arm. 

“Stanley–” he started, struggling to sit up but grunting when Eddie gently kept him from moving any further. The pain in his side was dulled, but moving had it flaring up again. He winced, settling back down on his back while Eddie moved to get him water.

“He’s in another room getting his foot checked out.” Eddie said quickly, “He’s okay. We all are.” Richie breathed out a relieved sigh, his hand moving to wrap around Eddie’s wrist to pull him back into his space before he looked over at Bill.

“So much for that plan, huh Bill?” 

.

.

.

Weeks passed, with Richie’s stab wound healing at a startling pace. He watched every day as his flesh threaded anew, leaving a deep, fleshy scar that left him feeling mild discomfort if he stretched too far to one side. He could hardly feel the pain after a few days, and after a few weeks he was healed just fine. The marled scar blooming at his side was a harsh, flesh colored pink that was a deep red at the edges, but Eddie seemed to like it– so Richie didn’t mind the blemish at his torso whenever he caught a glimpse of it in the mirror. The way Eddie’s eyes would linger on the fresh skin, faintly touching it every so often and leaving Richie trembling with anticipation. It was as though they were new people, and they had seen each other again after being apart for too long; Eddie was more than happy to show Richie just how much he missed him. Deemed healthy enough to be released from the hospital, he was eager to spend more time healing in the privacy of his own home, itching to feel the intimacy of Eddie’s hands caring for him. He felt stronger, somehow, and livelier; that nagging feeling of dread pulling at his mind had gone quiet ever since he’d been nearly killed by that witch– but that only meant prolonging her inevitable capture and exorcism. And that meant more time to plan and more time to suffer in his own uncertainties. But at that moment it didn’t matter, because he was healed and felt better than before he had been attacked. He didn’t know if it was his determination to go home that made him feel in good health, or if it was because he wasn’t able to see Eddie as often as he liked, but his only excuse was the power of love, Eds! and left it at that. Because he was free to go home and was able to have one on one time with doctor Kaspbrak, without having to think of the presence of evil and dread looming throughout Derry. 

They decided it would be best to reconvene as soon as they could when Richie was ready and strong enough to, not knowing that it would come so soon. He was ready to do whatever he had to do so he could finally get rid of the witch and save his home, even if that meant fighting through the fear in his heart that seemed lost on everyone else. They hadn’t regrouped since the incident, briefly mentioning it privately to one another in passing meant that the witch could possibly taste their nerves in the air; and it would only make her stronger. It made sense to Richie; they hadn’t been able to speak to one another and they were all itching to break down and knit pick at all the flaws in Bill’s perfect plan. Richie sat down beside Eddie, leaning into his side with an arm wrapped around his shoulders as everyone else took their time rummaging through Bill’s kitchen or chatting. Stanley, with his foot still wrapped in gauze and forced to walk on crutches, sat at a bar stool in the kitchen with Bill asking him about his injuries. 

“What happened out there wasn’t anyone's fault,” Bill started, “But we don’t have any time for long term plans, and we have to act soon.” He paced in front of the group as they settled down in their places in his living room, trying to get comfortable. He looked at Richie with pained eyes, then at Stanley. “How have you guys been?” 

Stanley shrugged, looking down at his bandaged foot. “I made a mistake and didn’t see the trap.” he murmured. “I didn’t realize she had followed us, she was just… just, standing there at the door as we made our way in.” he scratched the back of his head, his eyes trained to his lap as they looked on. “She surprised me, and I stepped into her trap.” He murmured, sighing quietly when Bill nodded, before looking at Richie. 

Eddie gave his hand an encouraging squeeze before he began. He remembered the purple gray color of her skin and the way her body cracked and contorted with each step she took. The way she clicked her tongue and giggled in that sinister way, with her long nailed fingers dragging along the walls as the light behind her made her body look like a horrifying silhouette. “She was uh… she was standing at the hallway, where you guys were.” he started, his hand clutching onto Eddie’s as he spoke. “But she was facing me, like she could see me, but I couldn’t see her face so I didn’t know she was looking at me at first. And I tried getting out but she ran towards me. Mike found me before she could do anything. Then I heard Eddie scream and I ran to where I heard it but it was just you guys.” he gestured to Beverly and Bill. “Then she uh, touched my head and whispered something into my ear. And then she stabbed me.” he murmured, shaking his head when everyone looked at him sympathetically. “No it’s fine– I mean, I’m fine. I’m completely healed. It’s just… vivid.”

“What did she say?” Ben piped up, leaning a little into Richie’s space while Richie pulled away from him. His nose curled as Ben’s shoulder pressed against his, his hand clasping his leg while giving him a sympathetic look. Something about him seemed off putting to Richie– and maybe it was because he was tired, or maybe it was because Ben just seemed to be too close, but it left him feeling an unpleasant heat in his stomach. It curled in his lower abdomen anxiously, and he could feel a cold feeling rush down his back.

“I dunno... seeing as it was almost two weeks ago and I didn’t have the opportunity to write it in my fucking diary, Benny.” Richie hissed back, glaring at Ben who raised his hands up in surprise. The group's gaze slowly turned to Richie, with his eyes focused on Ben. Richie leaned back into Eddie’s touch while sheepishly looking away. “Sorry,” Richie stammered in surprise. He could feel the rush of irritation thrumming through him in waves– but it felt wrong, somehow; like it wasn’t him. “I guess I’m still feeling a little worked up over getting stabbed.”

“Fuck Richie, are you sure you’re okay?” Ben asked, softer this time. Like he was trying to tiptoe around the short fuse that was Richie Tozier. Like Richie was the short fuse of the group– but when did that become the case? Richie was never the one to blow his top. He was the funny guy, the careless guy, the dumb guy. He never got angry– especially not at Benny boy. 

“Ben–”

“Okay– well. It looks like we have a lot to work on– which is good. Because Halloween’s coming up and we’ll be ready for her then, won’t we?”

“Bill–” Beverly stood up from her place and shook her head, pointing at Bill when everyone else gaped at him in surprise. Richie snorted, glancing over at Eddie and shaking his head. There was no time or plan, and yet Bill expected them to act– another failed plan which would only lead to another near death experience. “Halloween is tomorrow, what the fuck do you expect from us right now?”

“That’s the only time she’ll be at her weakest– we need to be ready for her. Stanley has to stay at the house.” Bill raised his hand up before Stanley could argue before he turned to Richie. “You think you can do this?” Richie lifted his shirt up to show off the fresh scar that was pulled taut with his arm raised. It was jagged from the way the woman twisted and pulled at the knife like it was a toy– but it healed clean and all Richie could feel was slight discomfort. No more uncertain thoughts in his mind about plans or the whisper of the witch’s voice calling his name. He was ready. 

“Of course–” Richie nodded, but as he sat up he could feel a blinding pain digging into his side as he stretched his arm up. He winced as he stood straight, trying to ignore the stabbing pain shooting up his side as the others watched. 

Beverly stood from her spot on the couch and pushed Richie to sit back down. He felt the uncomfortable heat of anxiety and panic blooming from where she touched his shoulders, before she removed her hands and the feeling was replaced with calm again. He couldn’t quite grasp what had made him feel so… anxious, being touched by his friends. “He can’t fight her, Bill–” Beverly started, moving to stop Bill from reaching for the rushed plans he’d scribbled down. “We might just have to wait– he’s not doing okay.”

“I can be on lookout duty with Eddie,” Richie suggested, waggling his eyebrows at Eddie while Bill rolled his eyes. “We can make sure nothing happens on the outside, and if you guys really need us– we’ll be in the van. We can start it up and run on out of here as soon as we need to. You can just scream or send a signal or some shit. Consider me the last line of defense.” 

“Fine, but you’re staying with Mike.” Mike perked up curiously as though he weren’t listening to the conversation going on; too immersed in the old book of secrets that he’d stolen, shaking his head when Richie squawked in surprise. 

“You can’t leave Mike with me. He’s one of our strongest players!” Richie snapped. Richie couldn’t imagine leaving Eddie in the hands of Stanley, Ben, Bill and Beverly. And although he cared about them all; he knew that they all carried heavy flaws with them that would make them weak without him. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew that if things turned out badly, he would rather have Eddie at his side safely than out there with the rest of their friends risking their lives. He glanced over at Mike and decided that well, maybe if he had a choice he would knew who he’d kill in the group, and while Mike wasn’t his first choice, he certainly wasn’t as safe as Eddie.

“And what– Eddie isn’t?” Bill replied. 

“Eddie is the boyfriend that gets to take care of me when I’m injured.” Richie leaned against Eddie, eyes wide and pouting. “Don’t you wanna protect me from the big bad witch, Eds?” 

Eddie looked at Richie for a long time, his eyes trailing over the mostly healed cut on his forehead and his lip, and the scattered bruises on his arms. He sheepishly looked up at Bill, squeezing Richie’s hand. “You know that Mike will be more useful than me, Bill.”

“Fine.” 

.

.

.

“Come here often?”  
“Shut up, Richie.” 

The annoyance in his voice came with a soft smile and a teasing look. The night was cold and the thick thrush of forest around them left Richie feeling unsettled, like the unseen eyes of the forest were trailed on them. Like every worst case scenario Bill had planned for, every back up plan he had, didn’t prepare anyone for Eddie and Richie being the potential targets for the witch’s new game. Richie glanced through the rear view window again, he heard something– didn’t he? Before he could turn his head to look in the back of the dark van, Eddie’s hand was squeezing his shoulder gently. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, “You’ve been… off, you know?” His hand smoothed out along the expanse of his bicep for a moment before his hand was falling to his side. “And you know– I don’t want to treat you differently because you’re injured but if you need anything, you know I’m here, right?” Eddie asked. And maybe Richie felt like he couldn’t trust him for whatever reason– even though that was never something he thought to second guess. Because maybe Eddie was telling the truth, but the dark and unpleasant feeling tickling the back of his throat made him think otherwise. Like maybe he wasn’t telling the truth– and this was all some sick ruse just to send Richie into the witch’s den so his so called friends could be rid of them both– like how he could’ve let Bill go off with It if he wanted but– no, but he didn’t. They were friends after all, they’d never do that to Bill, and they wouldn’t do that to Richie. 

Richie unbuckled his seatbelt to face Eddie, to look into his eyes in search of anything; he could see the love there, and the worry, and if he squinted he could see the fear. “Anything?” He teased, smiling when Eddie rolled his eyes a little. Because Richard Tozier may have been a little manic, and he may have been uncertain and scared, but he refused to break down those walls and show Eddie just how much pain and terror he felt. Not when he could divert the situation to distract them both, to ignore the wave of nauseating anxiety bubbling in his stomach with every whisper of wind and every giggle he thought he heard. 

“Is that what you need?” Eddie asked, and Richie didn’t know if he could focus too hard on Eddie’s suggestive hand sneaking its way back to his knee or to the way the trees in front of the van shook a little harder than they should have. But when Eddie guided him by his cheek into a gentle kiss, he didn’t have to worry anymore. Stumbling into the back seat, they were quick to lean into each others embrace, pressing heated kisses against each others necks while they hungrily rolled their hips down against one anothers.

“I missed this,” Richie mumbled, his eyes raking down Eddie’s sweat slicked body lying in the hard back seat of the van. It was uncomfortable, with Eddie struggling to undress while the car heated up with the hunger and desperation of their messy grinding. Wet and sloppy, teeth clashing and splitting skin, but that only spurred them on. Richie’s hands moved to ruck up Eddie’s shirt, eager to feel the heat his body desperately craved. It was easy, getting Eddie to struggle out of the tightness of his jeans while he rushed to turn over, his back arching so that Richie could grind his clothed cock against his ass. 

“Hurry up Richie– Bill’s gonna be pissed if he finds out we weren’t watching the house–” 

“Shouldn’t say another mans name while your boyfriends about to fuck you, that’s bad manners, mister Kaspbrak.” Richie pawed at Eddie’s side and over his back with his free hand, feeling the cold sweat that pooled down the dip of his spine. His free hand was quick to unbutton the clasp of his jeans and ruck them down far enough to free his cock. The windows fogged as they breathed hotly into each other's mouths with Eddie’s head pulled back at an awkward angle as Richie laid over him. His bare cock pressed against the cleft of his ass, his hips moving forward and back and forward again as he kissed at Eddie’s neck eagerly. He could taste the saltiness of his sweat there, leaving him dizzy from the painful pleasure. The smell of him and the taste of him, mixing with the anxiety and paranoia in his muddled mind left him delirious to feel and touch and breathe in the feeling of Eddie Kaspbrak like he was seeing him in a new, rose colored light. “Do I gotta–” he made a gesture with his hands, fucking his fingers into the air in front of Eddie with his free hand while the other kept him upright. 

“How are you so good at turning me off? Just fuck me.”

“If you keep talking dirty like that I’m gonna break you.” Richie teased, pressing a chaste kiss against Eddie’s temple before he was sitting up behind him. He pressed another kiss to the back of Eddie’s neck before his free hand was digging around underneath one of the seats of the van to find a half used bottle of lube. “If we do this right, I think I’ll be able to bust one out in five minutes if you put some work in yourself.”

“When do I not put in the work?” Eddie mumbled to himself as he squeezed the lube onto his fingers, massaging it in before he teased one of his fingers along his hole. Richie’s gaze flitted from Eddie’s face to his hand, watching the way his finger teased along his rim before he was pressing inside slowly. He wanted to memorize every sound Eddie made, every twitch of his leg against his hip, the way his cock perked up as pre-cum smeared along his lower abdomen, making it shiny and wet. 

“Aren’t you the one that says I take too long prepping anyway?” Richie asked, squeezing at the base of his cock and sighing in relief as he felt that slightly aching pressure lift for a barely there moment. With his brow creased, he watched as Eddie pressed another finger into himself easily, working himself open enough until he was teasing a third finger alongside the others. The way his fingers sunk in deep before he worked them open, faster than before, like Eddie might’ve been as impatient as he was.

“You do take too long.” Eddie grit out. His mouth hung slack as he worked himself open, sighing quietly as he lost himself in the feeling. “Your fingers are too big to make it hurt and,” his head pressed against the seat as he pressed his finger in deep, curling forward and sighing pleasantly at the feeling. “I like a little pain.” Eddie’s fingers were small. smaller than Richie’s, hardly enough to prepare him enough for cock. But he liked the full feeling of Richie pressing into him after he prepared himself in a rush; feeling the fullness as Richie was pressed flush against him. He could hardly breathe in the beginning, it felt like he couldn’t help hiccuping and gasping on a choked breath like the wind had been knocked out of him; until he was exhaling and gasping for air again when Richie pressed flush inside of him again. He would scramble to clutch at anything, tensing up when he felt the dizzying warm feeling. Where Richie’s cock pressed just enough inside him to tease along his prostate pleasantly until he felt ready to take him completely.

Richie groaned quietly, squeezing his cock a little harder, jerking himself a few times to edge the pain from seeing Eddie rock down onto his fingers. He closed his eyes as he put pressure at the base of his cock again, imagining Eddie sinking himself down on his dick while looking up at him with wide, wet eyes. The way he’d cry from the fullness of it, beg for more as Richie held him down. The way he’d tense up and tighten on Richie’s cock if Richie dug his nails harder into the flesh of his hips, or maybe wrapped a hand around the column of his throat and squeezed just past the point of pleasure. Maybe he’d let go as he watched Eddie kick and struggle, or maybe he’d sink his teeth down into the junction of his neck and let him feel what true ecstasy could be. He squeezed the base of his cock again, his eyes cracking open to see Eddie’s fingers gone and his legs spread, his foot impatiently tapping at Richie’s side. His skin flushed down to his chest and his breath coming out in harsh pants, he looked like a vision. His lips were bitten pink and swollen, and the way he looked at Richie made him feel like he was the only man in the world right then. “Okay, I might last three minutes if you say anything.” 

He looked over at Richie as he scrambled to sit up and press a chaste kiss to his lips, wiping the excess lube on Richie’s leg, grinning when he made a face. “You do that to me all the time!” Eddie teased. Richie mumbled an incoherent, spiteful remark back at him as he got into Eddie’s space, jerking himself off a few times while Eddie watched. His eyes dragged down his torso to stare down at his prick in his hands as he gave it a quick squeeze, before he was looking back up at Richie and biting his lip.

Richie gave him a look, and that was all it took for Eddie to twist himself onto his stomach completely, fumbling to find a proper position in the car. It was uncomfortable, but they’d manage. With one knee on the floor of the van and his other hiked up on the seat, he pressed his hands against the door in front of him and glanced back to watch Richie get into the space behind him. His legs settled in an awkward bent angle, with his head dropped down so that he didn’t hit it against the ceiling of the car, before he was planting one hand the soft curve of Eddie’s ass to spread him and the other was guiding his cock to his hole. He pressed the head of his cock against him, wet with precum and teasing as he slid it over Eddie’s ass, watching as his cock caught against the rim. The heat enveloped him slowly, with Eddie hissing out a slow breath as Richie sucked in a shaky one. He continued his slow pace, stopping every so often he heard Eddie’s breath hitch a little too hard or he felt Eddie clench around him tightly from the discomfort. 

Richie closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the tight pleasure teasing him in soft tremors. It was as though he could feel everything. The uncomfortable, cloying heat inside the car, the tacky feeling he felt against the leather wherever his bare skin touched, the rough drag of his pants teasing just below his hips. The way he could feel every hair on his body shifting with each movement– like he was slowly becoming more hyper aware of just how present he was in the world. Where he was so in tune with every sound, every movement, every single thing within his orbit, like even a simple change in setting had Richie’s senses on alert. He shook himself out of his sudden daze, his eyes looking at the fogged windows of the car before looking down at Eddie again. 

Eddie, who sighed and pushed his hips back to meet Richie’s slow paced thrusts, sighing quietly and asking for more. He trembled and whimpered as Richie thrust his hips forward, keening as Richie pulled back out, only to push forward again. “You’re doing so good,” he mumbled, his eyes shut and his mouth hung open. Sweat beaded along his skin, yet he smelled so fresh; like grass in a dewey field. Richie could see every bead of sweat trailing down his back, teasing him, enticing him. His eyes flickered down to where his hips met Eddie’s, where he could see his cock disappear inside of Eddie as he fucked him, as he claimed him. He swallowed thickly, trying to focus on the actions of his hungry thrusts rather than the details that were pittering along the corners of his eyes. But the details were enticing him with the way that he could almost see the dust glittering through the air with the lamplights gleaming behind him, creating a pretty silhouette over Eddie’s body. 

He was beautiful, enchanting Richie even when he didn’t even realize it. “You’re beautiful.” Richie mumbled, thoughtlessly. His mind was elsewhere, thinking about the ridges he felt under his palms from the seat, or the feeling of Eddie’s small hand clinging to his wrist limply. His tongue felt thick, heavy, like he hadn’t spoken in a while or he hadn’t had enough to drink. It felt tacky and cloying, like it wasn’t his own. He stopped his thrusts for a moment, trying to center himself and focus back in on what he was doing again, but he could hardly think. What was he doing? Who was he with– who was he? He looked around the dimly lit car, biting back an unpleasant noise in his throat as he sat there, over a pretty body– looming over a pretty figure that was calling his name. He closed his eyes, trying to feel the slickness as he rolled his hips forward, listening to the soft moans hitching with harsher thrusts and sighing with softer ones. He arched his back down, his hands gripping at the soft flesh at the man's hips before he was pulling him back, forcing his ass up so he could find a better angle. He bent over, licking a stripe up his spine so that he could have a taste of the saltiness kissing his flesh. It was dizzying, delirious, being able to taste the heat of him against his tongue. He slowed his rushed thrusts to a halt, his breathing coming out in harsh pants as he licked and sucked at the salty sweat on the expanse of skin set before him. 

“Richie?” 

The detached sounds of the young man calling him rang distantly, as though they weren’t pressed chest to back, as though he didn’t hear him moaning his name seconds beforehand like he was there. Instead it felt off, as though there was a rush of wind tickling his ears and making it harder to hear anything, as though the world was somehow spinning at a dizzying pace but not fast enough. He stopped his thrusts again, his trembling hands clutching at the man's hips as a wave of nausea ran through him.

He felt hyper aware of it all. Of the swirling pain tickling the back of his skull and spreading down his spine until it was flooding him like blood in his veins. He choked on a stuttered breath, his hands clenching tighter on the man’s hips as he fucked forward again– yet he could hardly feel the tightness of his body enveloped around him anymore. He could hardly feel anything except for the heat of his bloodstream rushing underneath his flesh like a vicious poison, or the thunderous sound of his heart pumping loud enough to silence anything else.

His body trembled as his vision blurred around the edges, darkening as he tried to focus in and out. His body went rigid, his throat seizing up in an unpleasant way as he rolled his hips forward. Breaking out into a cold sweat as he found the insurmountable pain in his body, like an unpleasant growth spurt of his youth happening in minutes rather than years. His eyes flickered back and forth, trying to focus on anything– trying to reel in his thoughts that seemed so distant, right then. Nothing seemed right, everything was blurry– suffocating and cloying and painful–

The pain at his fingertips was searing as his fingers twitched and clutched at the softness of the man’s body. He could distantly hear his low moans as Richie’s nails dug into the supple flesh at his sides, his nails growing bigger, longer, until they were sharpened to a dull point and an ugly shade of brown-yellow. They cut at his sides, but the young man didn’t seem to mind it at all, only pressing his head further against the seat of the car and sobbing out Richie’s name. 

A whimper fell past his lips as he felt the skin of his back grow cold, the feeling of goosebumps littering his skin. A pained wail sounded from his lips as he was forced to endure the feeling of his skin splitting apart, tufts of fur blooming from his back in painful patches as they ripped away parts of his skin. Although no blood spilled from his wounds, and instead his skin wisped away and fluttered like leaves splitting from a tree. The peeled skin shed away thinly as spikes of hair bloomed in ragged, messy disjointed pieces. His voice grew hoarse, deeper and more feral with each grunt and growl. His eyes flitted in a panic from the luminescent light of the car ceiling to the minimal lights outside; a lamplight, and a whispered giggle sounding behind him. 

The young man pressed back against Richie again when his pace slowed down to a halt after he made a pained noise. He sat up on trembling knees, shaking a little and catching his breath as he opened his eyes. “Rich–” he moved to turn his head, his eyes catching a glimpse of brownish black pleated fur and bright yellow eyes before his head was being pressed into the seat harshly, a large clawed hand gripping at his skull. He spluttered in surprise, one hand moving to grip at Richie’s arm to try to wretch it away from his head, but he was too strong. His cries came out muffled against the wet leather seat as he felt hot breath tickling the back of his sweat slick neck. He could feel Richie panting above him, drool trailing down his shoulder blades hotly. He trembled at the feeling of it, the hot tufts of air blowing against his heated skin as Richie rolled his hips forward, slowly this time; like he was curious.

His nails dug into the calloused skin of Richie’s clawed hand, digging in hard until he felt Richie release him in surprise, not pain. He struggled to sit up, turning his head to shout out a biting remark before he was being manhandled onto his back, his back hitting the seat and his head knocking into the door of the car, making him hiss in pain. He finally looked up at Richie, his eyes going wide and unblinking when he saw the ugly bent snout and harsh breath of the monster above him. Patches of skin were slowly growing thicker with fur, with the pants he wore in tatters around them. His chest was a mess of patchy hair, the transformation trailing slowly down his abdomen and making its way down to his hind legs, the unpleasant crackling of bones making Eddie cringe. Tears welled up in his eyes as his hand slowly moved out to touch at Richie’s furred arm, pulling away when he grunted to himself.

He screamed, his hands moving to push the beast away. But he was too strong, staying bent over Eddie, staring at him blankly. He could feel Richie’s cock inside him, but he could no longer feel the heavy want and desire that thrummed through him in heavy pulses moments before. Fear soured his stomach, making him grow cold and lightheaded from the sheer panic in his mind. It couldn’t be real– it couldn’t be. As Richie growled and huffed and fucked his hips forward, he could feel the curdled lust in his lower abdomen teasing him from how wrong it all felt. As Richie began to whine like a dog and fuck into Eddie a little faster now, with his mind running on nothing more than instinct, Eddie tensed from fear. He could feel the way his cock twitched inside him, growing thicker and longer, punching harsh breaths out of his lungs with each thrust of his hips. His head lolled to the side as tears spilled down his heated cheeks, soft ah ah ah’s being pulled from his throat softly. It felt good, the pleasure building up uncomfortably as the tip of Richie’s cock abused his prostate, pulling out just enough to press in roughly. His thick cock was flushed red at the tip, veiny at the base and thicker than anything Eddie had taken before. With each thrust forward it felt thicker, like he was still in the process of transforming but he couldn’t care to wait for Eddie to get used to him.

“Richie, stop– please–” he received a yipping sound in response as Richie caged him in with his fur-clad arms. He nosed along Eddie wetly as he rocked forward, his cock rolling in with more pressure than before. He could feel the heat of it, the wetness of precum that accumulated with each time he fucked forward, and the way his hands gripped at his hips, his claws digging into wherever they could. With his hands gripping Richie’s shoulders, trying to push him off, he screamed again. 

This only spurred Richie on, grunting and growling as he thrust harder, struggling to sit up on his hind legs to find a better angle. He pressed his thick, wet tongue along Eddie’s cheek until he was pressing against his mouth, huffing and growling as Eddie struggled to move his face away. His tongue slipped past tight lips, thick and hot and unpleasant as Eddie struggled to keep his mouth closed. Disgusting, like a dog licking at his mouth– except his tongue was longer– thicker. He gasped as he felt Richie’s cock catching against him, making him wince as he felt something painfully push back against him. 

He could feel the base of Richie’s cock pressing harder and harder against him with each needy thrust, something bulbous around the base trying to press into him. He looked down to try and catch a glimpse of Richie’s cock, seeing the hot red flesh piercing into him, and the angry knot at the base. “Richie– stop… I can’t,” but Richie didn’t seem to understand as he ruthlessly thrust harder. His tongue lavved against Eddie’s shoulder, a growl rumbling quietly in his chest. He tongued along his shoulder blade until he was teething at the flesh, sinking in until he felt the tension of Eddie’s skin going taut against him while he sobbed. As the flesh was split under his jaws, he could taste the metallic sweetness of blood fresh on his tongue. The harshness of his knot was blunt against Eddie’s hole until until he was fucking in deep with an angry thrust to seat himself inside Eddie, his knot expanding and locking in place. The blinding screams were ignored as Eddie clawed at Richie’s forearms, a pleased rumbling sound reverberating through his chest as he dug his claws into the seats and came inside Eddie. Eddie threw his head back and sobbed weakly as he felt the heat of Richie’s come filling him. It was painful, a constant overheated feeling in his stomach refusing to stop until he could hardly take it anymore. He could feel it all in his stomach, painfully full and uncomfortably wet everywhere else. With tears in his eyes, he blinked them away so he could focus on Richie, who was still panting and licking at wherever he could. He tried pulling out of Eddie, making a noise when he realized he couldn’t. He pulled a little harder, making Eddie cry out in surprise. He instead put his weight over Eddie, ignoring Eddie's cries as he got comfortable and snuggled up against him, trying his best to find a relaxing position. 

Eddie didn’t know how long it was, fading in and out of sleep with the heavy, heated weight of Richie on top of him. He couldn’t understand how this happened– how any of it happened– and he was too exhausted to think about it. As he came to, his eyes blurrily met bright yellow ones, awake and alert with the pupils in slits. His ears twitched as he heard the rustling outside of the car, the sound of people approaching. Eddie sobbed out quietly when he felt the heat of Richie’s come trickling out of him slowly, before he felt his stomach growing hotter again. His eyes shot up to look at Richie, who scanned the outside of the car quietly as he slowly pissed inside of Eddie. Eddie scrambled to push Richie away again, but he was too weak. All he could do was lie there as piss and come dripped onto the seat, pooling underneath him while he laid there in a daze. His legs shook as Richie slowly pulled out of him, the mixture of Richie’s bodily fluids spilling out of him in a rush, his hole open and loose as he laid there thoughtlessly. He mumbled quietly to himself as Richie made a threatened noise in the back of his throat when someone distantly called out his name. He glanced down at Eddie once last time before snarling when lights shined at the windows of the car. He scrambled back away from them, tensing when the door opened to see Bill and Mike standing there curiously. 

They saw Eddie on his back, bruise marks and blood trailing down his chest and neck, drool and sweat on his face. They could smell the piss and come reeking through the car before Mike’s flashlight was slowly trailing up to face the grayish brown monster above Eddie, drooling growling down at them harshly. “Holy fuck.” Mike mumbled. 

“M-Mike, is that, i-is that–” Richie growled again, before he was swiping his claws at the pair, making them stumble backwards on the ground in surprise, their flashlights falling beside them. They scrambled back as Richie jumped out of the open car, his eyes focusing everywhere at once, before he bolted. Eddie mumbled Richie’s name again, his hand moving weakly to try and lure him back, but he was gone.

.

.

.

“What was that?” Mike asked as he settled a cup of tea in front of Eddie, smiling warily when Eddie took it thankfully. He was surrounded by the rest of the group at Stanley’s home, who flitted around them like a concerned mother trying to make sure they were all okay. 

“I dunno.” Eddie mumbled absently, his eyes watching the steam of the tea swirl around for a moment. “It was Richie.” Was it, though? He was with Richie for one moment, and then gone the next. He could see the lust in his eyes, the anger, the fear. Painfully marking Eddie, tearing his flesh and splitting him open as a means to claim him barbarically while all Eddie could do was allow Richie to unleash the unrelenting strength upon him. But even through the delirious pain, he knew that it was, underneath it all.

“How do you know that was Richie?” Beverly asked, before Mike gave her a look. 

“We know it’s Richie.”

Eddie clutched his cracked glasses in his free hand, thumbing along the crack in one of the lenses as Bill paced back and forth. “I’m worried about him.” He whispered. Stanley stepped behind the couch with a blanket in hand. He wrapped it around Eddie’s shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze before stepping away.

“We’re worried about you.” Bill said quietly, giving Eddie a quick glance before looking away. It felt as though no one could bear to look at him, not after what had happened. Ben was quick to bandage Eddie up as best he could, the deep wounds at his hips to the bite marks on his shoulders and neck. “He could’ve killed you.” 

“But he didn’t.” 

“What was he? Why did he look like that?” Mike mumbled. 

“You’re the expert on all of that, shouldn’t we be asking you?” Beverly asked. Mike gave her a look, swiping the magical book of answers off the desk beside him before opening it up quickly.

“He was a werewolf–” Ben started, quieting down when Mike clicked his tongue.

“We need a plan, that’s what we need.” Mike replied, standing up from his place on the couch to look at Bill. “Werewolves… if he is one, rely on their baser instincts. He’s just gonna want to hunt for food and…” he trailed off, biting his lip. He scratched the back of his neck as the others looked at him impatiently. “And breed.” They looked at Eddie, who curled the blanket in on himself a little tighter, sighing quietly. 

“We can’t just use him as bait.”

“Well, if he really is a werewolf– then we don’t have much of a choice.” Mike looked at Bill, who was still spacing out in his space by the door, looking at Eddie with pained eyes. “We’re gonna need a plan to catch him.”

Bill shook his head. “We can’t use Eddie, he’s gonna get killed.” The rest of the group sat quietly as Mike and Bill spoke to each other, while Eddie listened. 

“We don’t have any other options, do we?” Eddie asked. Bill tried to respond, but was interrupted by Eddie again. Eddie looked at Mike. “How do we attract a werewolf?”

.

.

.

“Alright, now I haven’t really been able to go to the library since it’s about,” he checked his watch, “two hours past midnight. But I did look online and found some things that may be useful to us.” Mike held out a short, dulled blade and a few other various artifacts. Eddie looked at him nervously, the rusted blade twirling in his hand while Stanley looked on, unimpressed. It didn’t feel right, none of it did.

“Silver? I thought that was a vampire thing.” 

“No, it’s a werewolf thing– I’m... pretty sure.” Mike replied, furrowing his brow. “Unless– well, okay. Seeing as we don’t have a choice, we might as well give it a shot.”

“What’s the plan, Bill?” Beverly asked. She helped Eddie up off from his place on the couch and toward the kitchen. 

“Lay him down on the island and we wait for the would[wolf] to show up. He’ll be able to smell him, won’t he?” Bill asked, and Mike nodded. “He just has to scream or… howl.”

“We need the blood and howl of the uh… female, to attract the male,.” Mike said quietly. Eddie sat up on the edge of the counter and outstretched his hand for Beverly to take. Ben took it instead, shaking his head when Beverly went to grab for a knife. 

“I’ve got it, don’t worry.” Beverly looked at him for a moment longer before she was handing a small knife off to him and walking off to prepare. Ben looked up at Eddie with a smile as he pressed the edge of the knife to his palm. 

“Just like when we were kids, huh?” Ben murmured as he pressed the blade down firm and fast. Eddie winced, breath catching in his throat as he watched the blood slowly tease out of the wound. “I guess it’s not exactly the same.” He squeezed Eddie’s leg gently before he was leaving the room with everyone else. 

Bill gave him one final look before the rest of the group began preparing. The lights were shut off throughout the house, with the back door left open for Richie to come inside and the curtains and windows drawn open. They hid out in different spots in the house, quiet save for the quiet clicking and chirping of insects. Eddie laid on the island at the center of Stanley’s home, his eyes trained on the ceiling as he watched the ceiling fan above him move slowly with each passing tick of the clock. Eddie cooed softly, gently howling along with the faint dogs in the night like he was naturally inclined to. He closed his eyes, feeling the gentle thrum under his skin with every quiet call he made out into the quiet house. 

He felt free, like he was alone and all he had to guide him were the wisps of wind tickling his skin. He howled again, rougher this time, following the rush of wind suddenly whipping through the room. 

The quiet crunch of leaves outside had him pausing, his eyes opening when he felt the sudden heat in the room. He scrambled to sit up, stumbling from his place on the counter before he was steadying his feet on the ground. He looked around, eyes trailing along the dark corners of the room, the only shred of light given to them being the cool blueness from the full moon.

A quiet click of claws behind him and the rough sound of a breath sniffing through a mangled snout left Eddie frozen in place. A soft clatter and crash of a glass broke behind him, but he elected to ignore it, too focused on the rumbled sound reverberating through the caged chest before him. He could feel the heat radiating behind him, the shadowed figure looming tall as he gently sniffed at Eddie’s fringe, his back bowed over. “Richie… listen…” he turned his head, his eyes locking on his bright yellow gaze before he heard Stanley’s scream.

“What the fuck is that thing!” Stanley cried, scrambling backwards from his hiding space as the furred monster crashed and broke something else in the kitchen. With his focus off of Eddie, Eddie dashed to the other side of the island, running past Bill and Mike who jumped in front of the beast before he could catch Eddie. Bill took a step forward, causing Richie to step back until he was scrambling around the island. Bill continued to chase after it, trying to clutch at it’s dirty mane to stop it from chasing after Eddie, while he huffed and growled. 

Eddie only bobbed and weaved past the island counter, scrambling to find something to defend himself from the sharp canines of the beast. Richie only howled loudly, snarling and swatting his hands back at Bill who clutched on even tighter while the others tried to corner him into a wall. Richie closed his eyes tightly, an unpleasant groan rumbling through his chest as the losers all climbed on top of him in fear, pressing him down into the ground while Eddie watched with horror on his face. He looked terrified, his eyes wet with tears and one hand clenched onto a whisk while the others just breathlessly held him down. He yipped and howled as they tried to quiet him, with his glassy eyes gazing up at Eddie with fear in his eyes.

“Baby...” Eddie mumbled, eyes wide as he looked at the large, monstrous body that had trailed dirt into Stanley’s home. He stood tall on his hind legs, his body covered with coarse black fur. Stitched on the bloody left breast of the Werewolf’s jacket, stained but readable, were the words RICHIE TOZIER. “Oh, Richie…” Eddie mumbled, his eyes widening as he made eye contact with Richie, who backed up shyly, his tail swiping a plate of the table and crashing to the ground. He jumped in surprise, turning and backing away until he was bumping into the counter with his too big body, before he was yipping and whimpering. Eddie threw his hands up and took a step forward, his hands moving to stop Richie from going any further. “Calm down– Richie– please!” he huffed, trying to get Richie to focus on him. 

Richie focused back on him, his breathing rough and rigid as he tried to calm himself down. Eddie tried to rack his brain, how could this have happened to him? He didn’t know how long this had been going on, how long had his boyfriend been a werewolf? Why hadn’t he noticed? “Are you alright?” he asked, his hands moving to tug gently at Richie’s tattered clothing. Richie yipped quietly to himself, his eyes cast downwards as Eddie calmed him down, as though he were the only thing anchoring him from being swept away from his fears. “You’re okay now, alright? I’m gonna take care of you. I promise.”

“Richie?” Bill mumbed, his hand moving to run through his fur. 

“He’s a–” Mike started.

“–a werewolf.” Ben mumbled with a triumphant look, earning a look from Mike.  
  


“You stick to being the brawn and I’ll stick to being the brain, Hanscom, how’s that sound?” Mike grumbled as he made his way toward Richie. “Yeah, he’s a werewolf alright. I’ve never seen or heard of a wolf this big in size and… well, I guess it’s safe to say it’s Richie.”

“And he’s wearing Richie’s jacket– that's a pretty big clue.” Ben mumbled under his breath,

“Damn it, Ben–”

“Alright guys listen up.” Bill started, ignoring the way Mike huffed quietly to himself. “You guys know what the deal is, we’ve gotta go ahead and find out a way to fix this– we’ve gotta find out how this even happened. Mike, what do you know about werewolves?”

“You sure you don’t wanna ask Ben first?” he asked, rolling his eyes when Ben glared. “Since he suddenly wants to be the cryptologist of the group.”

Ben rolled his eyes and waved his hands, shaking his head. “Go on, I know nothing about werewolves, are we talking about werewolves? Why don’t we all go ahead and grab an early dinner and have Mike handle this.” Mike snorted a little, scratching the back of his head as he looked down at Richie, who snarled lowly at him. 

“I think we gotta find the witch.”


End file.
